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"I began a systematic and deter- 
mined effort to teach Ulysses to read 
and write." 






[HE FALL OF 
I ULYSSES^ 



■■^ £J AN ELEPHANT STORY 
by 

Charles Dwight Willard 

Illustrations oy~ 

Fbank Ver Beck 




New Tfork 

GEORGE H.DORAN COMBSNY 

191a 









Copyright 1912 by 
CHARLES DWIGHT WILLARD 



&CI.A316454 



To Ulysses' loyal friend 

M. O. H. 

this story is dedicated 

by the Writer. 



THE FALL OF ULYSSES 

An Elephant Story 




THE 
FALL OF ULYSSES 

AN ELEPHANT STORY 

CANNOT 

deny that I was 
entirely to 
blame for the 
calamity that 
overtook 
Ulysses; and if I call at- 
tention to the high social 
and literary standing of 
the gentleman whom I 
employed as an accom- 
plice in the affair, it is 
not at all with the hope of 






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thereby lessening my own 
responsibility. It is cer- 
tain that I furnished the 
unfortunate creature the 
cause for his desperation. 
I ought also to confess 
that I felt a sense of 
profound relief when he 
accepted the only means 
apparent to his limited 
understanding of freeing 
himself from his dilemma. 
But what was I to do? 
When a man has an 
elephant on his hands he 
should be judged with a 
kindly consideration for 
the awkwardness of his 
situation. 



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My elephant was de- 
cidedly more trying than 
the average variety, for 
the reason that he was 
not metaphorical, but 
real. What I mean is, 
that I am not speaking in 
figurative language about 
some officious friend or 
troublesome relative, but 
about a genuine Asiatic 
elephant, Ulysses by 
name, who came into my 
possession several years 
ago, and of whom I have 
but recently managed to 
rid myself. Physically he 
was a well-developed 
specimen, having no 




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special characteristics to 
distinguish him from the 
rest of his kind. Intel- 
lectually, however, he was 
a species of monster, and 
I was the unfortunate 
Frankenstein that was 
responsible for his exist- 
ence. 

The purchase was 
effected by a series of 
complicated negotiations, 
carried on in my behalf 
by a half breed elephant 
trainer, known as Jerry 
Rhahob, with the owner 
of Ulysses. Had I under- 
taken the job myself I 
might have found an 




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reputation of knowing 
more than any man in 
Madras about the habits 
and characteristics of 
elephants and the means 
by which they could be 
most successfully trained. 
For some time he had 
been in charge of the 
yards where the animals 
owned by the British 
government were prepared 
for service in war or road 
building. Before setting 
out for my bungalow, I 






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thought best to consult 
with Jerry, who spoke 
English perfectly, as to 
the course of education to 
which I proposed treating 
Ulysses. 

"I intend to teach this 
animal all that an elephant 
can be made to learn, " 
said I. 

"You will not have 
time to do that," said 
Jerry, significantly. 

"Do you mean," I 
asked, "that there is no 
limit to what an elephant 
can be taught?" 

"My experience has 
led me to believe that it 







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depends upon the patience 
of the man, and not upon 
the capacity of the brute, 
how far the instruction 
may be carried." 

"Very well," I said; "I 
shall have patience. 
What I most need is 
advice about gaining the 
creature's confidence and 
affection." 

The fact that I am a 
bachelor does not prevent 
my entertaining an 
extensive code of opinions 
on the subject of the 
proper rearing of children. 
The suggestions of Jerry 
Rhahob on the training 



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of elephants seemed to me 
much the same that I 
would have offered a 
young and inexperienced 
parent if he had applied 
to me for advice about his 
offspring. Reduced to its 
fundamental principles, 
Jerry's theory was that an 
elephant should be re- 
garded as a dumb and 
deformed human being, 
possessed of a keen 
appreciation of right and 
wrong, delicate sensibili- 
ties, exceptional capacity 
and high character. From 
the mental and moral 
qualities with which 





Jerry's conception seemed 
to endow this being, I 
would have accorded him 
a place in the human 
species, among the class 
that is said to be born and 
not made, the "genus 
irritable/' 

One piece of warning 
he gave me in conclusion. 

"The elephant knows 
as well as you do," said 
he, "that he is an animal 
and you are a man. He 
appreciates the distinction. 
He understands that he 
is your physical superior, 
and that he could by a 
single blow of his trunk 






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dash the life out of you. 
As long as he is kindly 
treated he will feel no 
desire to exercise that 
power. In the matter of 
intellect he appreciates 
that you are greatly above 
him, and will obey and 
serve you for that reason. 
Let him once get it into 
his head, however, that 
his powers are on a level 
with your own, and his 
arrogance will become 
insupportable. The re- 
lationship will be suddenly 
reversed, and you will 
find yourself no longer 
his master, but his servant. 



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Several years ago I had 
a very intelligent elephant 
here in the yards whom I 
employed to build stone 
walls. He became 
marvelously expert at it, 
picking out just the right 
shaped rocks to fill the 
spaces with the best 
economy. The stones are 
irregular in form, and you 
can imagine that no small 
degree of skill is required. 
On one occasion he stood 
near watching me while I 
endeavored to teach a 
younger elephant how the 
work was to be done. I 
built several feet of wall, 



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but the job was not 
successful one — not, at 
least, when compared 
with what Budan could 
do. Whenever I picked 
up the wrong stone he 
gave a snort, and in- 
dicated a better one with 
his trunk. At last he could 
stand it no longer, and 
brushing me aside, took 
hold of the work himself, 
and soon had the young 
one taught. After that 
he made no secret of his 
contempt for me. I saw 
that he was ruining 
my standing with the 
rest of the herd, and 











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I had to send him away." 
This story would have 
seemed quite ridiculous 
to me if I had not heard 
many others more 
wonderful pass current 
without question, and had 
I not often seen elephants 
employed in Madras at 
work which in America 
would be assigned only 
to artisans of considerable 
skill. 

"Believe anything you 
are told about the intel- 
ligence of an elephant," 
said a traveler from India 
to me once, before I 
visited that country; "the 



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chances are it is true. 

I engaged an ex- 
perienced mahout, or 
driver, an intelligent 
native by the name of 
Akbar. I determined, 
however, to make use of 
his services just as little 
as possible, in order that 
Ulysses might learn to 
depend upon myself alone. 
I attended personally 
to the matter of food and 
drink, and took pains that 
my protege should receive 
no favors from the 
hand of anyone else. I 
soon learned the things 
that gave him pleasure, 




and put myself to no little 
trouble to gratify him on 
every possible occasion. 
I continued this process, 
combining with it instruc- 
tion in such small services 
as "house elephants" in 
India are always expected 
to perform, until I saw 
that I had completely 
gained his confidence 
and affection. During 
this period of his 
tutelage, Ulysses would 
have trusted and obeyed 
me to any extent. I think 
he would willingly have 
laid down his life or 
endured torture for my 



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sake. Nothing made 
him happier than to be 
near me as I sat under 
the banyan tree in my 
garden, smoking and 
reading. When I opened 
his stall in the mornings 
and called to him to come 
out, he fairly quivered 
with joy at the sound of 
my voice, and gave vent 
to his satisfaction at 
seeing me by shrill trum- 
petings. His devotion 
was annoying at times, 
and one of the first difficul- 
ties that I experienced was 
in teaching him to be less 
demonstrative. 







It is a fact, which 
most readers of this 
narrative have proved for 
themselves by actual ex- 
periment, that animals 
may be taught the 
meaning of words. An 
intelligent dog, for 
example possesses a con- 
siderab 1 vocabulary. I 
propose J to undertake a 
systematic course of 
instruction in the English 
language with Ulysses 
and to ascertain to what 
extent he was capable of 
acquiring our vernacular. 
Whenever he learned a 
new word I made a note 



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of it in a book, and by 
constant review contrived 
to fix it in his memory. 
As soon as he began to 
comprehend what my 
purpose was, as he did 
after I had been laboring 
with him a couple of 
weeks, he became very 
eager to learn, and greatly 
increased the rapidity of 
the work. 

The process of teaching 
him nouns was simple 
and easy. Each day I 
would produce several 
new articles, tell him their 
names, and have him 
hand them to me as I 



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called for them. I taught 
him to say "yes" and "no" 
by the waving of his 
trunk, and made him 
appreciate that he was to 
use that means of signi- 
fying to me whether 
he understood me or 
not. 

After I was well into 
the work, the morning 
lesson would go somewhat 
as follows: 

"Are you ready for 
your lesson, Ulysses?" 

Ulysses lifts his trunk 
affirmatively. Although 
he does not understand 
"lesson, "the word "ready" 



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is clear to 
quent use. 

I hold out a ball, a new 
object. 

"This is a ball, Ulysses; 
a ball." 

I repeat it several 
times, until the sound has 
fastened itself in his mem- 
ory. Then I lay it on 
the table with a pipe, a 
cup and a book. I ask for 
them, one after another, 
and he hands them to me. 
I add numerous other 
objects, the names of which 
he has already learned, 
and thus combine review 
with advance instruction. 





Together with the noun 
"ball" I teach him the 
verbs "roll," "throw" and 
"drop," and perhaps an 
adverb or two like "fast" 
or "slowly," and an adjec- 
tive, "round." Sometimes 
there is an awkward 
hitch and I have to 
abandon the attempt to 
teach him some particular 
word, referring to it again 
when his vocabulary has 
been increased in some 
other direction. 

A certain point once 
passed, it was surprising 
with what rapidity I pro- 
ceeded. One word led to 




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another, a number of 
words to phrases and 
these to complete senten- 
ces. I finally dropped 
into a way of talking to 
him about the objects 
with which we were 
working, much as I would 
have talked to a bright 
child. I was conscious at 
times that only a small 
part of what I was saying 
was understood, but it 
accustomed him to hear- 
ing the words that he 
knew, used in association 
with others to form 
complete statements. 
In my search for objects 



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to use in the instruction 
of Ulysses I happened 
upon a lump of chalk. 
With this I sketched 
various things on a smooth 
plank of dark wood, and 
found that they were 
readily recognized by my 
pupil. From this I sud- 
denly conceived a new 
idea. I sent to Madras 
and had a large, firm 
blackboard made and 
ordered chalk and erasers. 
Then I began a systematic 
and determined effort to 
teach Ulysses to read and 
write. 

There is one element 



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a narrative of results, and 
that is time. I had been 
steadily at work with 
Ulysses for nearly a year 
before I began to use the 
blackboard, and after I 
adopted that assistant it 
was many months ere 
important results began to 
show themselves. Any 
one who has ever labored 
with a well-meaning but 
obtuse pupil, will appre- 
ciate how slow and 
discouraging at times my 
work must have been. He 




will also understand how 
the progress, trifling, when 
considered day by day, 
amounted to a good deal 
when viewed in the 
aggregate. 

I readily taught Ulysses 
to hold the chalk in the 
fingers of his proboscis, 
and to mark with it upon 
the blackboard. He 
understood that he was 
to imitate, as nearly as 
possible, the marks that I 
made. In this way I 
taught him to print the 
letters of the English 
alphabet in clumsy char- 
acters several inches in 




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size. Gradually he became 
more expert in making 
them, and learned the 
names by which they were 
called. It was a great 
triumph for me when I 
first succeeded in getting 
him to write the letters of 
his own name as I called 
them off, and saw myself 
the proud possessor of an 
elephant who could write 
his autograph, perhaps 
the first of his species that 
ever performed that 
enlightened but compro- 
mising feat. 

All this was easy 
enough, but to make him 



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comprehend that certain 
groups of these peculiar 
marks formed pictures, 
which were to suggest 
definite objects to him, was 
a very different sort of an 
undertaking. The hitch 
in the proceedings at this 
point was so serious that, 
for a time, I gave up all 
hope of accomplishing my 
object. It seemed impos- 
sible to establish the 
necessary connection in 
his mind between the 
written characters and 
the spoken work. At last, 
it suddenly dawned upon 
him, and he learned (fatal 



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omen!) the word "book." 
The acquiring of one 
word constituted the test 
in my calculations. That 
point being gained, the 
rest was only a question 
of additional work and 
continued patience. 

It was not long before 
Ulysses could write upon 
the board the names of 
most of the objects that 
had been used in his in- 
struction thus far, and the 
verbs that I had taught 
him in connection with 
them. To combine these 
words into sentences was 
largely a matter of imita- 



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tion, for he had already 
come to understand them 
when so arranged. In a 
short time we were 
carrying on long confer- 
ences, and the vocabulary 
of Ulysses had increased 
to the point of embracing 
most of the words used in 
daily conversation. With 
the establishment of this 
mode of inter-communi- 
cation, Ulysses was able 
to explain to me what his 
difficulties were, and I 
could proffer more 
available assistance. I 
then, for the first time, 
enjoyed an intimate 



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acquaintance with a brain 
that was not human. I 
could look into it and 
study its character and 
mode of action. I need 
not add that the occupa- 
tion was a fascinating one. 
Our conversations, which 
were at first limited to 
visible actions and con- 
crete objects, soon strayed 
into abstractions. The 
rapidity with which he 
grasped the analogy 
between seeing and think- 
ing, and lifted himself out 
of the material into the 
metaphysical plane, 
astonished me beyond 




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measure. He possessed 
an over- ruling sense of 
logic, keen and penetrat- 
ing, and yet so swift that 
it seemed transfigured to 
intuition. But the most 
wonderful feature of his 
intellect was his memory. 
Now that words were 
supplied him, as tools 
with which to conduct his 
thinking, what were before 
mere vague impressions, 
became definite ideas, 
fixed and everlasting. I 
soon found that it was 
necessary to be absolutely 
accurate in all that I said 
to him, as he was quick 






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to detect any inconsist- 
ency, and his memory 
covered the full amount 
of all that I had said since 
he had come to have 
command of the language. 
For some time we 
conversed together every 
day, I talking or writing, 
and he using the black- 
board. As print was too 
slow for practical use, I 
taught him to write short- 
hand. One day he made 
some inquiry of me 
concerning the novel I 
happened to have in 
hand, and I read him 
several chapters of it. His 










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delight at gaining so much 
knowledge in so short a 
time was unbounded. I 
discovered that he regard- 
ed it as authentic history, 
and hastened to undeceive 
him. He was greatly 
shocked to find that 
anything could be said 
or written which was not 
true. This led me into 
something of a dissertation 
upon the forms of litera- 
ture and the canons of 
taste. He listened with 
an absorbed interest. The 
bent of his mind was 
evidently not practical, 
but literary and artistic. 





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Ulysses' fondness for 
hearing me read gave me 
an idea as to a means of 
freeing myself from the 
importunities for instruc- 
tion and discussion to 
which he was now treating 
me, and which were be- 
coming decidedly irksome. 
I sent Akbar, the mahout, 
to Madras with a letter 
to a French oculist. He 
brought back a large 
monocle which I had 
ordered made for the use 
of my pupil. There was 
a hole in one of Ulysses' 
ears, drilled there by some 
former, less appreciative 



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"Ulysses was now ready to begin his 
literary researches." 



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owner, through which I 
passed a light silk cord, 
allowing the glass to hang 
conveniently pendant. I 
had a wooden rack con- 
structed by a neighboring 
rayat, who did carpenter 
work, which held the 
volume open and at the 
right altitude. Ulysses 
was now ready to begin 
his literary researches 
independent of my aid. 
Kneeling before the rack, 
in which he soon learned 
to fasten the book himself, 
he lifted the monocle to 
his eye, with the fingers 
trunk, and com- 












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menced to read. At first 
he proceeded slowly, and 
was often compelled to 
summon me to his assist- 
ance. After I explained 
to him the use of the 
dictionary and allowed 
him to keep one near at 
hand, this source of 
annoyance ceased, and he 
worked away by himself 
with a steadily increasing 
ease and rapidity. 

There was one person 
who had observed all 
these proceedings with 
astonishment and disap- 
proval. This was Briggs, 
the English gardener who 




took care of my place. I 
think he had an idea that 
I was violating the laws 
of the Church of England 
in some way, I scarcely 
know how. On one 
occasion, when I hap- 
pened to be in Madras, 
Ulysses discovered, by 
appealing to him for the 
meaning of certain words 
and phrases, that all 
mortals were not endowed 
with the same fund of in- 
formation that I happened 
to possess. No sooner 
did he find out that 
Briggs knew less about 
such matters than he did 







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himself than he began to 
treat him with open con- 
tempt, slowly bringing 
up his eyeglass and in- 
specting him with cold 
hauteur whenever he 
happened to come in 
sight. 

That there helephant," 
Briggs complained to me, 
"do treat me most har- 
rogant, sir. I didn't 
never expect to come to 
this 'ere." 

I spoke to Ulysses 
about the matter, and re- 
monstrated with him. 

"I cannot understand 
it," he wrote in reply. "I 





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Root of Sufficient Reason 
to which I found a refer- 
ence in a volume of essays 
by Frederic Harrison. 
He said he never had 
heard of any such root. 
Can he not read and talk 
as you do, and as all 
mortals do? How does 
it happen that he is igno- 
rant of these things?" 

I explained to him that 
only a small part of the 
human race was interested 
in affairs of the intellect, 
and that millions of men 
were still in the condition 



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of unhappy mental blind- 
ness from which he had 
so recently emerged. He 
was aghast at this 
statement, but it did not 
tend to re-establish Briggs 
in his respect. 

It was now the season 
of the year when I was 
accustomed to make a 
tour among the neighbor- 
ing coffee plantations, to 
estimate and bid on the 
crops. I was not able 
to take Ulysses with me 
conveniently, so I left him 
in the care of Briggs and 
Akbar. To Briggs I gave 
the key to my library, 




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'To Briggs I gave the key to my 
library, with orders to supply Ulysses 
with whatever he might demand." 




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with orders to supply 
Ulysses with whatever he 
might demand, and I pre- 
pared for my pupil's use a 
catalogue of all the books 
in my collection. The 
library was chiefly made 
up of works of history, 
philosophy and criticism, 
admirably suited to the 
special tastes of Ulysses. 

My absence lasted 
during a period of nearly 
three months, and on my 
return I found Ulysses 
almost in a condition of 
"must," or insanity. He 
had read all, or nearly all, 
the books that I had 



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placed upon the list, and 
had gained through that 
extraordinary memory of 
his an immense mass of 
fact and opinion. He 
was now suffering from 
intellectual dyspepsia. I 
consulted him about his 
troubles, and got in reply 
an avalanche of questions 
on every variety of subject. 
His confidence in my 
knowledge was, apparent- 
ly, unlimited. It would 
have been a source of 
inexpressible gratification 
to me if I could have 
shared it. 

I was not unmindful of 



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the fate which had befallen 
poor Briggs, nevertheless 
I felt it my duty to help 
Ulysses out of his diffi- 
culties. I did not imagine 
that his questions would 
occasion me much trouble, 
and if they should, I 
thought myself the pos- 
sessor of sufficient savoir 
faire to get out of it in 
some way. I avoided 
some things merely by 
assuring him that he 
would understand them 
better when he had read 
more. When I essayed 
an answer to any of his 
interrogatories, he had an 









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unpleasant habit of pin- 
ning me down to exact 
statements and definite 
opinions. I had never 
appreciated the extent and 
variety of my ignorance 
until it was subjected to 
this test; and although 
Ulysses' attitude toward 
me was always that of 
pupil to teacher, yet I 
saw at times traces of the 
Socratic method in the 
long series of questions 
that he put to me, and I 
was compelled, not infre- 
quently, to squirm out of 
some inconsistency in 
most undignified fashion. 




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This inquisition con- 
tinued for a number of 
days after my return, and 
I could not close my eyes 
to the fact that I was fail- 
ing to hold my own in the 
estimation of Ulysses. 
From a cyclopedia of 
literature, which happened 
to be in my library, 
Ulysses had stored his 
mind with an enormous 
fund of information on 
subjects of which I was 
completely ignorant. In 
this field I was continually 
falling into traps. There 
were also translations of 
Comte and Hegel, to 






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which he had devoted 
considerable study, but I 
checkmated him there by 
talking wordy nonsense, 
which I was sure he could 
not distinguish from meta- 
physics. It was evident, 
however, that he was 
beginning to appreciate 
that something was the 
matter. Although he had 
not come to the point of 
ranking me with Briggs, 
still my position was 
getting to be a precarious 
one, and I saw the neces- 
sity for great care. 

For some time I avoid- 
ed being drawn into 









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conversation with Ulysses, 
keeping him at bay with 
a number of new books, 
which I had brought with 
me from Madras. He 
was not long in apprecia- 
ting that there was some 
purpose lying back of this 
policy, and demanded an 
explanation of me. I was 
confused by his point 
blank questions, and only 
managed to make things 
worse. After that I was 
clay in his hands. Every 
day he branched out into 
some new field of discus- 
sion, tested me and found 
me wanting. I tried in 



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vain to conceal my failures 
under a dignified exterior. 
Ulysses at first seemed 
pained and surprised, but 
there finally showed itself 
in his bearing toward me 
an air of satisfaction and 
triumph, which was not 
easy to endure. To have 
been arrogantly treated 
by a member of my own 
species would have been 
a new experience to me, 
and one which I would 
have vigorously resented; 
this exhibition of super- 
ciliousness from an animal 
below me in the scale of 
creation was more than I 



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proposed to put up with. 

One morning, as I 
sauntered out to the 
banyan tree, wondering 
what was to be the out- 
come of this absurd sit- 
uation, Ulysses motioned 
to me, and pointed to 
the blackboard, which I 
saw was covered with 
finely written characters. 

"No, Ulysses," I said, 
"I am tired this morning, 
and it is very hot. I do 
not wish to get into a 
discussion with you." 

Ulysses waved his 
trunk emphatically, and 
pointed again to the 









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blackboard. Then he 
gave a fierce trumpet, and 
glared at me in a way 
that gave me a start of 
terror. 

I saw that some sort of 
a crisis was ahead, but 
determined to defer it, if 
possible, until I could 
decide what was the best 
course to pursue. I ap- 
proached the board and 
read the following 
message, addressed to 
myself: 

"Master — You are de- 
ceived if you think I am 
ignorant of the change 
which has gradually come 




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to pass in our relationship. 
You have been my supe- 
rior thus far in life, not by 
reason of your greater 
physical power, for I can 
strike you dead with one 
blow, whereas you, with- 
out the aid of tools, could 
not give me even external 
pain. Your sole claim to 
command over me lay in 
your intellectual super- 
iority. This superiority 
I am now compelled to 
question. Yesterday you 
admitted that you had 
never read any of Henry 
Mackenzie's novels; you 
showed complete igno- 



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ranee concerning Bishop 
Berkeley's Alciphron; 
and when I asked why 
Henry Vaughn, the poet, 
was called the 'Silurist,' 
you had no answer to 
give me. In the conversa- 
tions of the last few days 
you have made countless 
blunders in matters of 
history, science and 
literature. Your ideas in 
metaphysics are those of 
a dotard, and your judg- 
ment in belles-lettres is 
execrable. I do not see 
on what ground you 
arrogate to yourself a 
position above me. If 




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you are not entitled to the 
place that I have given 
you in my consideration, 
if the idea which I have 
entertained with regard 
to our respective positions 
is erroneous, then it is 
clearly a matter of justice 
that we should straight- 
way change places. I 
will be the master here- 
after and you the servant. 
Can you show me any 
good reason why this 
revolution should not 
come to pass ?" 

There was no mistak- 
ing the tone and purport 
of this communication. 



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It was at once a declara- 
tion of independence and 
a manifesto of sove- 
reignty. Not merely must 
I exercise no more 
authority over Ulysses, 
but I must yield gracefully 
and submissively to his 
rule. I did not know, 
either by experience or 
hearsay, what kind of a 
master an elephant would 
make, but from the in- 
tensely logical quality 
that Ulysses had always 
shown, I had a suspicion 
that he would prove at 
least severe and intolerant. 
The dilemma was a 




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I took up the 
chalk, intending to write 
my answer rather than 
speak it, that I might have 
time for reflection. As I 
did so, an idea suddenly 
occurred to me — a plan 
by which I could beat 
Ulysses at his own game. 
I immediately became so 
confident of its success 
that I did not hesitate to 
stake my personal liberty 
on the chance of his dis- 
comfiture. 

"Ulysses," I said, "I 
cannot deny that in many 
directions you have shown 
a mental grasp that I 



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never expected to see de- 
veloped elsewhere than 
among the best of my own 
species. But all this is 
not enough. There is 
still one test, the last and 
severest to which culture 
and intelligence may be 
submitted. If you can 
meet this satisfactorily, I 
shall no longer question 
your superiority over 
myself." 

'That is all I ask," 
wrote Ulysses, "a fair 
trial. " 

I stepped into the 
house, and returned with 
a book which I had re- 



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cently brought from 
Madras, and which Ulysses 
had not seen. I laid it 
open upon the rack before 
him. He brought up his 
monocle and glanced at 
the title and the author. 

"Aha!" he wrote; "I 
have heard of this man, 
and have long wished to 
see some of his work." 

"You know what posi- 
tion he occupies in 
letters?" I asked. 

"I do," wrote Ulysses; 
"I have read what his ad- 
mirers say of him." 

"Very well," I an- 
swered; "you know, then, 



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what is demanded of you 
— that you should under- 
stand and enjoy this work. 
If you cannot meet both 
these requirements, then 
you have failed." 

Ulysses shrugged his 
trunk with easy indiffer- 
ence, raised his eye glass, 
and began to read. I lay 
some distance away, 
dozing in my hammock, 
and awaited results. They 
were not long in coming. 

At the end of about 
half an hour he trumpeted 
to me in an indignant 
tone of voice, and inquired 
on the blackboard whether 








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I had given him the 
original English or some 
kind of a translation. 

I answered this satis- 
factorily, and for more 
than an hour he toiled 
away, breathing hard at 
times and swaying from 
side to side, whenever he 
thought he was about to 
find a clew. 

Presently he called to 
me again. 

"I forgot to ask," said 
he, "whether this was to be 
read backwards or side- 
ways." 

"Straight ahead," I 
answered. 



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I saw that he was 
getting involved in the 
toils, and knew that they 
would soon close on him. 
It must be remembered 







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could feign an opinion 
which was not genuine, 
had never occurred to 
him. The book had been 
submitted to him about 
the middle of the morning. 
Ulysses took no refresh- 
ment that day, neither 
water nor food. When I 
came out of the house 
after "tiffin," I advised 



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him to lay the volume 
aside, and look at it again 
the next day. He seemed 
to feel that this would be 
a confession of failure, and 
refused. 

"Tell me," he wrote, 
"are there many of your 
species that understand 
and really enjoy this 
book?" 

"They are not many 
in number," I answered; 
"but their position in the 
society of culture and 
taste is an exalted one. 
Within the last few years 
it has come to pass that 
the understanding and ap- 



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preciation of this work is 
a shibboleth by which the 
true disciples of sweetness 
and light may distinguish 
themselves from the 
miscellaneous herd of 
Philistines. Do not be 
discouraged because you 
have failed," I added, in 
a kindly, patronizing tone. 
"There are many estim- 
able mortals in the same 
situation. You under- 
stand, however, that you 
cannot be admitted to the 
elect, much less claim 
superiority to myself." 

Ulysses wrote upon 
the blackboard several 



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profane expressions, which 
I suppose he had learned 
from Briggs, and resumed 
his study. 

It was nearly evening 
when Akbar came to me, 
and said that Ulysses was 
showing decided symp- 
toms of becoming "must." 
I went out with the inten- 
tion of taking the book 
away from him, but 
stopped several yards 
away, struck by his 
changed appearance. His 
eyes were wild and blood- 
shot, his ears erect, his 
legs spread apart. He 
was beating his sides with 






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and at times 
trumpeting in low, bass 
tones. When he saw us 
approach he seized the 
book from the rack and 
dashed it at me with all 
his force. 

"Ulysses, " I said, 
"keep calm." 

"Look out!" cried 
Akbar; "he is 'must.' 
Beware!" 

With a terrific roar 
Ulysses turned, and 
sprang in great, ponder- 
ous leaps out of the 
garden. Briggs, who 
was in his path, dropped 
his rake and flung 




himself into some bushes. 

"After him, Akbari" I 
cried; "see where he 
goes." 

Ulysses ran toward a 
clump of woods, which 
grew over a knoll a short 
distance away. Into this 
he plunged, and was soon 
out of sight. We could 
hear the limbs crash as 
he tore away into the 
thick foliage. Akbar fol- 
lowed cautiously. The 
direction which Ulysses 
had taken caused a sus- 
picion of possible calamity 
to dawn on my mind, and 
I waited uneasily for the 












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mahout's return. It was 
not long before Akbar 
emerged from the woods 
and ran toward me. 

"Praise be to our 
fathers, he is dead!" he 
shouted. Akbar had 
come to fear and hate 
Ulysses. 

"Are you sure?" I 
asked. 

"May the hyenas eat 
my grandfather!" said 
he, solemnly. "You, who 
know only the truth, re- 
member the rocky bank 
beyond the hill, which 
slopes off to destruction? 
Your servant, Ulysses, 



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rushed thither and flung 
himself down, bursting his 
head against the stones. 
I myself saw him there, 
lying motionless and 
dead." 

This was the end of 
Ulysses. I have already 
remarked at the beginning 
of this narrative that I 
felt less of sorrow than of 
relief over the catastrophy. 
Long association had 
made him dear to me in 
many ways, yet I was not 
prepared to endure him 
as master. There could 
be no other outcome to 
the unhappy situation 










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than a tragedy of some 
kind. I sadly gave orders 
for the interment of his 
body, and returned to the 
house, taking with me the 
torn and disfigured copy 
of Browning's "Sordello." 



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Note by the Author. 

The reason that 
prompted Ulysses' master 
to select "Sordello" as the 
agent of his discomfiture 
was, no doubt, that of all 
the blind and obscure 
work of the great poet, 
this is generally rated the 
most mysterious and per- 
plexing. In the days 
when the Browning con- 
flict raged, "Sordello" was 
the touchstone of the cult. 
To refresh the reader's 
memory of its difficulties, 
here are reproduced a few 
passages taken almost at 



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random from the poem. 
None of these is de- 
pendent on context for 
meaning, so they consti- 
tute a fair test; and the 
reader can put himself in 
Ulysses' place. 

FROM "SORDELLO"— BOOK ONE. 

To remove 

A curse that haunts such natures — to preclude 

Their finding out themselves can work no good 

To what they love nor make it very blest 

By their endeavor.*— they are fain invest 

The lifeless thing with life from their own soul 

Availing it to purpose, to control, 

To dwell distinct and have peculiar joy 

And separate interests that may employ 

That beauty fitly, for its proper sake. 

This world of ours by tacit pact is pledged 
To laying such a spangled fabric low, 
Whether by gradual brush or gallant blow. 
But its abundant will was balked here: doubt 
Rose tardily in one so fenced about 



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From most that nurtures judgment, care and 
pain: 

Judgment, that dull expedient we are fain, 
Less favored, to adopt betimes and force 
Stead us, diverted from our natural course 
Of joys — contrive some yet amid the dearth, 
Vary and render them, it may be, worth 
Most we forgo. 

FROM BOOK THREE. 

Let stay those girls (e'en her disguised 

— Jewels i' the locks that love no crownet like 

Their native field-buds and the green wheat 

spike, 
So fair ! — who left this end of June's turmoil, 
Shook off, as might a lily its gold soil, 
Pomp, save a foolish gem or two, and free 
In dream, came to join the peasants o'er the 

sea.) 
Look they too happy, too tricked out ? Confess 
There is such niggard stock of happiness 
To share, that, do one's uttermost, dear wretch, 
One labors ineffectually to stretch 
It o'er you so that mother and children, both 
May equitably flaunt the sumpter-cloth ! 



(Reader, are you "must?") 



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